


A Long Way to the Top

by espea



Category: AC/DC
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, hopefully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espea/pseuds/espea
Summary: Modern AU: All Angus wants to do is play his guitar and have fun. But his brother brings in an old friend to become their new singer, and Angus is not prepared for the wild ride that Bon Scott is about to take him on.





	1. Can I Sit Next to You Girl?

Angus weaved his way through the sizeable crowd towards the bar. Malcolm had headed straight there right after the show to take advantage of the owner's generous offer of free drinks to the performers. 

At the counter, the bartender gave him a wry look.

"So what'll it be, kid? Juice?" he asked. Angus already changed out of his uniform, but there was no denying that his height made him look younger.

"Actually, juice sounds nice," Angus replied, earning a humorous double take from the bartender. "Do you have any orange juice?"

The bartender poured him the juice before helping other patrons. Malcolm slid up next to him, a large glass of Jack Daniels in his hand.

"The owner is loving the crowd we pulled in tonight," Malcolm said. "I don't think he would care if you got a proper drink, even though he thinks you're fifteen."

Angus only shrugged in response. He drank in moderation after he turned eighteen, up until Malcolm dragged him to a pub to celebrate forming the band. His brother poured drink after drink for Angus, which led to a night spent with his head in a toilet and Malcolm mocking him for being a lightweight. Angus hasn't touched a drink since then, now even the smell of liquor makes his stomach lurch. 

From across the room, Angus could see Dave surrounded by a number of girls, ones who looked too young to be in a bar around ten at night. 

"Ugh, pulling in girls, that's all he's good for," Malcolm said. "Don't worry about what he says."

Angus could still feel his anger stewing in the pit of his stomach over what Dave said about Angus' 'wild tantrums on stage.'

One of the girls noticed the pair of brothers and tugged on Dave's arm. Angus watched as she whispered something to Dave, prompting him to, reluctantly, stand and lead them over to where Angus and Malcolm sat.

"There you are girls, my guitarists," Dave said. "This one's Angus and the other is Malcolm."

One girl, about as short as Angus with pretty blonde hair and blue eyes, stepped forward.

"I'm Leddy, I think you're amazing," she gushed to Angus. Angus smiled and raised his orange juice.

"I try," he replied.

"I'm serious." She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "I've always wanted to play guitar, and I've seen videos of you, well, before tonight. I started taking lessons."

Angus sat up a little straighter. As a kid, he often would jump around on his bed with his guitar, pretending to be Jimi Hendrix. Hearing that he was someone else's Jimi was a possibility that he never imagined. 

Malcolm reached out and patted Angus' shoulder. 

"Maybe he could teach a couple of chords before we have to go tonight," he said with a wink. "I have to find our brother, George, and talk over a few things. You two have fun."  
Leddy blushed and looked down. 

"I mean, if that's all right," she said. "I'd love for you to teach me a couple of things."

Before Angus could respond, Dave piped up.

"Well, I mean, he's not perfect." He leaned up against the bar with a new drink in his hand and Angus got the urge to fire back with a quip about how stupid his outfit looked, a belly shirt with skin tight pants and a ridiculous tie.

Leddy blinked. "Well, nobody's perfect."

"Didn't you see him trip on stage?" Dave continued. "Tripped over his shoelaces! A good guitar player, but he needs to learn to reel it in, you know?"

Angus could feel his face burn from either humiliation or anger. Yes, he did trip during the performance. But he followed on of George's main pieces of advice: 'Everything is part of the show.' Angus fell, but he didn't stop playing, and thrashed around on the floor like he meant to be there. 

Leddy looked down. "I didn't notice anything." Suddenly faced with an uncomfortable situation, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I have to get back to my friends." With that, she turned and made her way back to a group of girls convening around a table.

Dave shrugged and made his way to the back. Angus followed him.

"What was that all about, Dave?" Angus yelled as soon as they were behind the tiny stage. Dave merely shrugged again.

"I think I did you a favor. I'm pretty sure she was fifteen."

"I wasn't interested in sex!" Angus yelled. He pursed his lips and kept his voice under control. "Yes, I did trip, but nobody will notice unless you go around telling them."

Dave shook his head and made a vague gesture with his hand. 

"I just think," he said, "that you need to focus on playing guitar. The dancing and thrashing that you do just makes a spectacle for no reason."

"You mean to say that I take attention away from you?" Angus replied. He slowly began to count to ten inside his head, just like George told him to do.

Dave put a hand on his hip. "Well, I am the singer. Singers are generally supposed to get the most attention." 

Angus roughly shoved him backwards. "As if you do a lot to deserve attention. Malcolm writes all our songs."

Dave's eyes flashed dangerously. "Two songs! We've only got two original songs right now." He squared his shoulders and stepped towards Angus. "He hasn't got any decent ideas other than those, and I'm not interested in being a part of a Jimi Hendrix tribute band!"

WHAM!

Angus' fist shot out with barely a thought, clipping Dave's jaw. He counted to ten several times in his head, but Dave seemed insistent about picking a fight, especially since Dave decided to start insulting Malcolm. Dave stumbled backwards holding a hand to his face. 

Taking advantage of Dave's shock, Angus lurched forward. Dave jumped back and attempted to hold Angus back by pushing against his head. Angus ducked down and went after Dave's legs instead. They both tumbled to the ground and Angus kept trying to pummel Dave's face in while Dave kept trying to block his attacks.

Suddenly, Angus was pulled off of Dave and hauled to his feet. Angus looked back and saw that it was George.

"What do you two think you're doing?" George yelled. Dave leapt to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"The little psycho started attacking me, that's what!" he exclaimed. Angus started towards Dave again, only for George to forcibly pull him back. 

"You should probably go back to the van, Dave," George said evenly. Dave huffed before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"What the hell happened?" George said as he let go of his little brother's shirt. 

"A girl said that she wanted to play guitar 'cause of me," Angus growled. "Dave started spouting off about how I need to control myself on stage and that I tripped." His voice grew higher as his anger began to boil to the surface again. "And then he said how Malcolm didn't have any good ideas for us and that we'll just be a Jimi Hendrix tribute band!"

George nodded along to Angus' diatribe and placed his hands on his shoulders. 

"Yeah, Dave's becoming a bit of a shit lately. I think he's jealous of the attention you're getting."

Angus remembered the very first days of AC/DC. He and Malcolm agreed that they would take turns being rhythm and lead, only for Malcolm to decide to stick to rhythm after he saw Angus dance around as he played. Dave sat to the side during the whole conversation with an expression that one could only describe as 'sulking.'

"Don't worry about anything," George continued. "Dave's going to leave soon. Maybe tonight, after this incident. Malcolm's been asking me about finding a new singer."

Angus looked away. He just wanted to play guitar and have fun. When Malcolm asked him if he could join his band, Angus wasn't prepared for all the drama that apparently came with it.

George patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I've got a lead, so you won't have to hold auditions." 

"Right. Okay." Angus mostly calmed down by this point, and had to look forward to a very awkward ride back to the motel. 

George sent Angus on his way and took out his phone to check over his messages. With luck, his kid brothers should have a new singer by next week. Bon texted him and told him that he would be in Melbourne at the same time as them, despite his misgivings about Angus and Malcolm's ages. George knew that with a singer like Bon Scott, his brothers could have something great.


	2. Rock 'N' Roll Singer

Bon waited outside of the venue where George told him to meet him. Being perfectly honest with himself, Bon wasn't sure about joining his friend's little brothers' band. It seemed pathetic that he couldn't find a band with members his own age. Not to mention that he remembered being around nineteen all too well, and didn't think he could handle the kids' inexperience.

But what else did he have? He just signed off on his divorce, his stint with Fraternity ended in literal flames, and the only jobs he could find outside of music was unskilled labor work. The last promising job offer he had turned out to be work painting a giant, rusty ship. He took one look and hightailed it back to Melbourne. 

Bon sighed. It could be worthwhile, if only to keep his foot in the door. George, Vince, pretty much everyone that Bon had worked with were perfectly content with settling down and becoming a suit, getting real jobs or working behind the scenes rather than out on stage. Slowing down didn't appeal to Bon. 

He finished off his cigarette and threw it on the ground just as he saw George approach. Well, he wasn't wearing a business suit, and he seemed to be growing his hair out while Bon had cut his short and shaved his beard. 

"Hey, man," Bon called out. George gave a little wave before leading Bon inside. 

Not exactly glamorous, Bon noted. There was a bar along the left side and the stage was set up near the end of the room. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a high arch with windows shaped as a cross. It must be a former church, he figured. 

George took Bon to a little table set near the back. The crowd for the show was already starting to file in, despite being an hour before show time. Bon had already checked out their songs, and found them decent, if a little too much on the glam side.

"Right," George said. "Let me get us some drinks and we can catch up before it starts." George fetched a pint of beer for himself and a glass of whiskey for Bon.

"So," Bon said as George sat down with the drinks, "I half expected you to show up in a business suit, Mr. Producer."

George snorted. "Not as glamorous as you would believe. We're not all fat businessmen lighting cigars with cash." George tilted his head. "How have you been feeling?"

"Fine," Bon responded. "I'm a free man again." George set his lips in a thin line, and Bon dreaded what he would say next.

"Vince told me about the accident."

Bon winced. He crashed his motorcycle after speeding off in wake of a huge argument with his former band mates at Fraternity. He didn't want to consider that George was only offering him this gig out of pity.

"Nothing I couldn't walk off." Three days in a coma, broken teeth, burns, cuts, and fractured ribs. But he did eventually walk again. He swiftly drank his whiskey down in one go. 

"So, your kid brothers," Bon said before George could keep talking about the accident. "What's going on with them?"

George sighed. "Not getting along to well with their singer, I'm afraid. Jealousy, creative differences and all that. You know how it goes. I convinced him to stay for one more show, since it's the last of the tour."

That was a song and dance Bon knew too well. 

"Jealousy? Who's he jealous of?"

George smiled. "Angus. He's been becoming the little star of the band."

"That great of a guitar player?"

"You'll see." 

They continued with small talk to pass the time. Bon asked George how his wife was doing, Bon in turn assured George that he and Irene were still friends, spoke about what was going on in the music industry right now. 

The crowd grew bigger, to the point that the hall was nearly packed. Mostly teenage girls, Bon noted, oh and how that brings him back.

The spotlight hit the stage as the band members shuffled on. The singer came up to the microphone. 

"Thank you for coming tonight. This is AC/DC." 

He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about his own band. Well, he is getting replaced, Bon thought. But he would've respected the guy more if he gave it his all for his final show. 

They began to play Voodoo Child; Bon personally wouldn't have gone with a cover for the first song to perform. 

From the right of the stage, a little guy dressed in a school uniform came into view with his own guitar. He had to of been one of the little brothers and he would not stand still. With every note he played, he danced, bobbed his head stomped his feet. He was more of a spectacle than the singer and Bon could not pull his eyes away.

He leaned over to George. "I'm guessing that's Angus?"

George laughed. "You see what I mean?" 

Bon couldn't help but clap along with the crowd, cheering to Angus' solo. At one point, he threw himself on the ground and thrashed around, kicking his legs up in the air as his fingers quickly danced along the strings, and he didn't miss a single beat.

"Oh my god, he's a maniac." Bon began to laugh. "This is amazing!" 

George's lips curved up into a slight smirk. George wasn't one to say 'I told you so,' but Bon could still hear it loud and clear in his expression.

The show ended on an epic note, and was it over already? Bon checked his phone and found that an hour had passed without him realizing it. He could already imagine himself on stage with them, rocking out alongside Angus.

"Alright, you have me convinced," Bon said. "When would be a good time to meet them?"

\------------

Malcolm and Angus drove back to their place in silence. Angus still shook from the adrenaline from the show  
.  
Dave ran off barely after the last note played. Malcolm said he had a new gig lined up, with a band called 'Rabbit,' or something. It suited Angus just fine. But he knew that Malcolm will want to get them on another tour as soon as possible, which meant finding another singer. And perhaps a new drummer and bass player. The two they had, they left almost as quickly as Dave did, and Angus suspected that Malcolm fired them, which would make that the, what, fifth or sixth time?

Malcolm pulled into the driveway of the tiny house that they rented together. A small, one story building with two bedrooms and a basement that they used as a rehearsal space and recording studio.

Angus stepped out of the van as soon as Malcolm killed the ignition, and grabbed his guitar case. Thankfully, George arranged for their equipment to be taken to a storage unit, one less thing to worry about. 

Malcolm silently retreated down to the basement while Angus went to go take a shower. He worked up an incredible amount of sweat during the show. He was proud of the performance he gave, even if it was just to give Dave a final two finger salute. He even fell down to the ground on purpose this time.

As Angus finished in the shower, he could hear voices from down the hall. He recognized George, and figured he must have stopped by to talk a few things over with him and Malcolm. He threw on his shorts, figuring that he didn't need anything else and headed to their living room.

Sure enough, George and Malcolm were there, but Angus froze in mid-step when he saw the third person, who looked up and saw Angus standing there half-naked and dripping wet. 

"Oh, hi," Angus said. George looked up and didn't seem to notice his brother's state of near-nudity.

"Angus, this is Bon Scott," George said. "We were just discussing about bringing him on as our new singer."

Angus looked over at Bon again, and slowly began to recognize him.

"Bon Scott? Wasn't he in a boy band?" 

"Hey," Bon lightly admonished and Angus thought that his voice sounded goofy. "The Valentines weren't a boy band, we at least played our own instruments. Besides, what you were playing tonight, that's more my style of music."

"But wouldn't you be a little old?"

Malcolm snorted and covered his mouth.

"Angus," George said. "He's the same age as me." 

"Well, if he thinks I'm too old," Bon said. "He can prove it. Where's your guitar?"

Angus stood a little straighter and forgot about his exhaustion from that night's show.

"Downstairs."

Bon stood. "Lead the way then, I'll see if you can keep up."

Angus took the challenge and raced down to the basement and grabbed his well-loved red Gibson SG from its case. He had it plugged into their amp before the others made it down the stairs.

He played a few notes as he waited for Malcolm to grab his guitar. Bon made his way to their drum set and grabbed the sticks.

"Right," he said. "Count off and give me a song."

Malcolm counted off and Angus launched straight into 'Can I Sit Next to You Girl?' To his surprise, Bon already knew the lyrics. In contrast to Dave's soft, crooning style of singing, Bon could yell and scream the lyrics and still made it sound good. Angus liked it.

After the song was finished, Bon sat down at the drum set.

"Alright," he said. "We'll try to some up with something original, let me give you a beat." He twirled the sticks in his hands and played a steady beat, which Malcolm quickly matched on his guitar. Angus followed suit with a riff that matched the chords that Malcolm set up for him. 

George could only watch the spectacle of his brothers, one of them barely dressed, jamming with Bon and wished that he had his bass with him so he could join. He settled for providing feedback and giving pointers where he could. But it seemed that they had it under control.

It looks like AC/DC had a new singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is my life now.


	3. Got Balls

Angus walked down the street with a stack of fliers in his hands. It seemed Malcolm had fired the last drummer and bassist after all, or perhaps they quit, it was starting to get difficult keeping up. Malcolm shoved him out the door with nothing but a flash drive and some bills, and told him to have the fliers printed off and spread around the city. 

At first, he aimed to hang up the fliers near the university, trying to attract kids his own age. Well, they had Bon, but he seemed to be an exception, not the rule. Anyone over the age of twenty-five all were more interested in settling down, finding a job and all that. Angus couldn't see himself ever wanting to anything except play his guitar.

As he went to staple a flier to a phone pole, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned his head and found no one there. He quickly looked the other way and found a man with short, curly hair trying to make a quick getaway.

"Bon!" 

He turned around with a 'who, me?' expression and walked over.

"What do you have there?" he asked, gesturing to the fliers. 

"Oh, Malcolm says we need a new bassist and drummer," Angus replied. Bon took half the fliers from Angus along with the clunky heavy duty stapler. 

"And where is he?"

Angus shrugged. "At our house. He kicked me out."

Bon raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

"Well, you know, he was working on the finances and told me he didn't need any help, but then got frustrated that I wasn't doing anything." They would be working together, Angus figured that he shouldn't sugarcoat his brother's neurosis.

"Hm," Bon checked the stack of fliers. "How many have you hung up so far?"

Angus had about half the stack that he had coming out of the printers, so...

"Maybe fifty?"

"How about a little break, I could buy you a drink."

Just then, the wind picked up, reminding Angus of the unseasonably chilly air. 

"I suppose," he replied. Bon led him to a little bar just up the street from where they were.

Once inside, the bartender immediately noticed them.

"Oi, then! How old are you, kid?"

"Nineteen." 

The man did a humorous double take at Angus' deep sounding voice.

"Well, I'm gonna need to see some I.D."

Angus fished it out and supposed that one benefit of becoming a teetotaler was not having to deal with the questions about his age anymore. 

The bartender scrutinized the piece of plastic, holding it close, then far, and even bending it a little before handing it back to them. 

They finally sat down at a table.

"Does that happen a lot?" Bon asked. 

"I'm short and adorable," Angus said with a wink. "What do you think?"

Bon chuckled. "I suppose that does help sell your schoolboy image. So," he gestured to the little drink menu that sat on a stand on the table, "what did you want to drink?"

Angus remembered the chilly wind outside. "A hot tea sounds nice right now."

Bon quirked his head to the side. "We're in a bar." 

"Lots of bars can serve tea." 

"Well, sure, but... I guess I'm just surprised, considering your brothers could drink most men under the table." 

"I used to drink. Not anymore since I nearly turned inside out from all the vomiting."

Bon shrugged. "It gets easier every time it happens."

"That's not exactly reassuring." 

Bon fetched them their drinks, and the bar did, indeed, have hot tea. Angus cupped his hands around the styrofoam cup to warm up his fingers. 

"Oh, and I almost forgot," Bon said. He grabbed a notebook from inside his jacket and set it on the table. "Maybe we could go over songs while we're here."

"You've already written songs?" Bon had only joined the band just the week before.

"Oh, these are some ideas that I've had for a while. A lot of them wouldn't fit in with the free love spirit that Fraternity had going on." He slid the notebook over to Angus.

Angus grabbed the notebook, finding it odd that Bon was showing him songs that he wrote when they barely knew each other. Music is the way to the soul, or so he heard. He flipped it open to a random page.

"'She's Got Balls?'" he read the title aloud. Bon laughed.

"Yeah, well, my wife complained that I never wrote any songs about her, so I wrote that." 

Angus tried to hide his surprise at Bon having a wife. 

"Er, well," Angus said, "how did she like it?" 

Bon winked. "Well, she's my ex-wife now." 

Angus strangely felt relieved and laughed. 

"She couldn't have divorced you over a song." 

Bon shrugged. 

"Well, it wasn't that. Okay, it might have been part of it. We just decided we were better off friends. Probably a little late in the relationship to be having that conversation, but that's the way it goes. Plus," Bon looked up towards the ceiling, contemplating. "I think my reckless behavior became a little much for her."

"What do you mean?"

"I got into a little accident. Wound up in the hospital..." Bon sheepishly shrugged. "A little drunk driving, not my best moment."

Angus wasn't sure how to respond to that. Bon wasn't trying to garner sympathy, instead trying to pass it off like a joke.

"But you're alright now, that's something," Angus said.

Bon shamelessly patted himself on the crotch. "Got all my equipment intact, that's what matters. There would've been a lot of broken-hearted girls if anything happened to it." He went to take a drink.

Angus raised an eyebrow. "If you think a cock's the only way to pleasure someone, you've got bigger problems."

Bon squirted his drink out through his nose and began to cough.

"Wh- What?!" he exclaimed before collapsing into laughter.

Angus secretly felt proud for being able to make him laugh like this. 

"Well, it's true," Angus said. 

"Yes, it is," Bon wheezed. He coughed a couple of more times before regaining his composure. 

"I'm sorry," Bon said as he wiped up the beer with a napkin. "It's just that you've got this 'innocent catholic school boy' thing going on." 

"Maybe when I was fourteen," Angus replied. "I got a job at 'Ribald' after I left school."

Bon's expression told Angus that he very well knew what kind of publication 'Ribald' was, as if the name wasn't enough of a giveaway. 

"How old were you?" Bon asked. 

Angus shrugged. "Fifteen. I got kicked out of school for fighting." Specifically, they hauled Angus into the Dean's office after he had a kid on the ground and bleeding from the nose for insulting his brothers. They told him that he could either leave, or they would expel him. Angus walked out the door. His parents, after realizing that taking away every electronic and guitar that he owned wouldn't convince him to go back to school, told him that he would have to work if he wanted to keep living under their roof. He remembered George saying that they wouldn't have been that easy with the older brothers.

"You wouldn't actually write the articles, would you?" Bon asked. Angus shook his head. 

"Just gopher work. You know, fetch coffee, make copies and all that." Still, he would see his 'betters' work on such articles as 'Ten Ways Guaranteed to Make Her Wet!' He wasn't exactly impressed.

Bon had his elbow on the table and his head resting in his hand. Angus hadn't expected Bon to look, well, fascinated when he talked about his first job. 

"Er, so," Angus said. "The songs?"

"Right," Bon grabbed the notebook and flipped it back a few pages. "This is one that I think would go well with the instrumentals that we came up with last week."

"'Jailbreak,'" Angus said. He read through the lyrics. "It does look pretty good."

Bon shrugged. "Just something I had bouncing around in my head ever since I was arrested." 

Angus blinked. "Arrested?" 

Bon laughed. "Some judge caught me in bed with his daughter, found some obscure law about 'unlawful carnal knowledge.'" Angus furrowed his eyebrows and Bon caught it. "It means I had sex before I turned eighteen. Anyway, I was locked up for a month before they decided keeping me there based on a law no one enforced anymore was probably a shitty thing to do."

Angus distracted himself by reading more of the lyrics Bon had scribbled down into the notebook. 

"I think Malcolm may be calmed down by now," Angus said. "We could show this to him, see what he thinks."

Bon nodded and finished off his drink.

"Sure thing, if you want to head over right now." 

"Maybe get rid of these," Angus said, gesturing to the posters. "He won't be happy I didn't get them all hung up."

Bon waved his hand.

"I already have a possible lead on a drummer. If we have trouble, I could find us a bassist as well." 

Angus nodded and stood up to leave.

He liked girls. He could vividly recall having crushes on several during his school days. He liked flipping through the filthy magazine that he kept hidden under his mattress while he still lived with his parents. He definitely liked girls. He shouldn't be disappointed that Bon only talked about being with women. He couldn't possibly like both boys and girls, let alone have a crush on Bon Scott.

Could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, I'll make the chapters longer. Maybe.


	4. Jailbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin' hell! Australians got everything backwards, winter is summer and they don't have proper lemonade!

Once they had a drummer and a bassist, they spent the next few weeks working on music and recording. With a steady drummer and bassist to rely on without having to constantly call in George to fill in or various other session musicians, Malcolm threw the band into working on new music. They rerecorded 'Can I Sit Next to You Girl?' in hopes that it could ease their current fans into having Bon as the new singer. From what Angus could read on the small fan forums, reactions were mixed. 

With their current song out of the way, they set to work on 'Jailbreak,' and 'Show Business,' as well as discussing the possibility of a cover. 

On 'Jailbreak,' they played through it five times through before Malcolm was satisfied with how they played. Angus was starting to feel cramped in the tiny space in the basement where they set up their recording equipment. 

He plugged his headphones into his laptop and listened to the playback. 

"It's good," he said. "Obviously, George and I will need to touch it up a bit, but I think we've got a new single on the way."

"Alright," Bon said. He reached into his pack and pulled out a fifth of whiskey. "A call for celebration, drinks are on me tonight!"

"We can't celebrate yet," Malcolm said, though he still reached out and grabbed the bottle from Bon's grip. "We've got to promote ourselves, sell our new image, plus I think we should think about signing on to a studio." Sure, they made money recording and selling their own music, but they weren't exactly rolling around in it. 

"This could be a good way to get to know or new band mates." He gestured to Phil and Mark, their new drummer and bassist respectively, who were currently busy packing up. To their credit, they went right along with Malcolm's grueling schedule, even though they both had jobs outside of the band.

Bon dug through his bag again and handed a can to Angus.

"Even got some lemonade for you," Bon said. Angus smiled and cracked open the can, taking a swig of the fizzy drink. 

"Alright," Malcolm said. "A night to unwind, but tomorrow we need to discuss ways to begin advertising ourselves."

"Sure enough." Bon turned to Mark and Phil. "What do you say then? Few drinks here then hit the town?" 

"Alright," Phil said right away. Angus had noticed that Phil tended to say yes to anything Bon had to say. In contrast, Mark merely shrugged. 

"I'll have a couple drinks, sure," he said. 

And so Angus had to watch while the other four began passing around the whiskey. They tried to play a drinking game, but gave up when Malcolm would keep drinking, even when it wasn't his turn.

After about an hour, Bon declared them properly sloshed. 

"Right then," he announced. "Angus, lead the way, take us to the best bars in town!" Bon placed his hands on Angus' shoulders, urging him to head on. In turn, Phil placed his hands on Bon's shoulders, Malcolm's on Phil's and finally Mark's on Malcolm's, turning them into a ridiculous conga line that Angus had to lead out of the basement and out the front door. 

They walked like that for about a mile into the city before Bon stopped them.

"Here's a good place," he said. They went inside a nightclub with music whose bass seemed to pulsate directly into Angus' chest. 

Bon lightly shoved Angus' shoulder. "Go ahead and dance," he said. "Lots of pretty girls in here." And with that, they all disappeared into the crowd. 

Angus elbowed his way through the throng of people, cursing his short stature. Hanging around with his siblings, it was easy to forget that most people were taller than a meter and a half. Forget trying to dance with these giants. After a while, Angus managed to make his way out of the dance floor and towards the tables.

Bon was already sitting at a table with a couple of girls. Phil was there with him, and Bon said something that made them all laugh. 

It figures that Bon would immediately be surrounded in girls. Angus wondered if he should have stayed at home. He always told himself that getting drunk wasn't necessary to having fun. Every commercial aimed at kids ages fourteen to twenty said that. But it sure didn't seem that way when you were the only one in your group who was sober. 

Malcolm was nowhere to be found, but Angus saw Mark standing next to the bar playing on his phone. Angus recalled that he didn't see Mark drink as much as their other band mates, and hoped that he would be good company. 

"Oi, Mark," Angus said as he came up next to him. The club began to play a remix of a Beyoncé song that started to make his head hurt. Her music was alright, in Angus' opinion, but the remix was god-awful.

Mark nodded, not taking his eyes away from his phone. 

"You don't seem to be as drunk as the others," Angus commented. Mark shrugged.

"I never really cared for drinking, especially when everyone else seems to be focused on getting as drunk as possible."

Angus hoped that he had found a kindred spirit. 

"No kidding," he replied. "There's really no point to alcohol if you think about it."

Mark nodded again, using his thumb to flip through something on his phone. 

"It's about nine," Mark finally said. "I need to get going."

"What." He didn't say it like a question, more as an expression of disbelief. 

"Sorry, mate. I've got work tomorrow morning." And with that, Mark disappeared into the crowd. 

"Right, sure," Angus said to no one. "I'll just stay here and play the babysitter to three drunken louts, it's fine." He patted his shorts pockets, and realized that he forgot to bring a pack of cigarettes to this little outing. 

Angus stayed and fumed for a few moments until someone slid up next to him.

"Feeling all right?" Bon asked. 

"Mark pissed off," Angus said. "Said he needed to work tomorrow." 

Bon merely shrugged. "All right, then. I've got Malcolm and Phil rounded up, if you're ready to move on."

'Of course I'm ready, this place smells like vodka and sweat,' Angus thought. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of moving on to another club, but figured that a moment of fresh air would do him some good.

"Sounds good, I'm ready to go."

Bon slung his arm around Angus' shoulder. 

"Onward then!" he exclaimed. They had to pull Malcolm away from a pretty girl while Phil was already waiting outside. 

To Angus' surprise, the rest didn't want to find another nightclub.

"We're here to come together as a band," Bon had slurred. "That means no girls right now." 

Malcolm came to a stop right outside an off-license.

"We need to refill," he said, patting his pockets. "Forgot my wallet."

"They won't sell to us, anyway," Phil groaned. "Too drunk."

"Angus." Malcolm began to shake his shoulder. "Angus, get us more alcohol."

"Forgot my wallet, too," Angus lied. "Bon did say he would pay for everything."

"That I did," Bon said and marched into the store. 

"He's really doing it," Angus said flatly. 

"Get away from the window!" Malcolm exclaimed, shoving Angus. "Clerk's gonna think he's buying for a bunch of underage kids!" 

The pretty clerk didn't notice the mess of them outside the window. Bon grabbed a bottle of the first alcohol that he could find, flashed a charming smile at her, paid, and left, not giving a single sign that he was likely snockered off his socks. 

Bon left the building triumphantly holding a fifth of vodka in the air. 

"Right then," he said. "We're going to the beach!"

"Yeah, the beach!" Phil cheered. 

Angus sighed and figured that the beach was better than a stuffed building. 

Bon managed to navigate the streets and led them to a gate that informed them that the beach hours were from 9 am to 7 pm. Bon hopped the gate, with Malcolm and Phil quickly following suit. Angus sighed and figured that he better stick with them to make sure they didn't wind up in prison for trespassing. 

They all ran down the winding path to the sand. Phil headed straight towards the dock. Angus feared that he would jump in, but he only laid down on his stomach and stared into the water.

"Bon! Bon, look! There's jellyfish!" Phil pointed down at the water like an over-excited child. 

Bon ran over to Phil and laid down next to him.

Angus sat on the sand as he felt his brother's arms wrap around his chest. 

"Angus," Malcolm slurred. "I want you to know that you're my brother and that I love you." He took a large drink of the vodka.

"Mal-" 

"Hush-shush," Malcolm covered Angus' mouth. "I just wanted to say that, no matter what we go through from now on, I'm glad I'm in a band with you." He nuzzled Angus' shoulder, and Angus started to figure that this wasn't all too bad. Sure, he was the only sober one, and his brother was right in the middle of the "I love you, man," stage of drunkenness, but spending time together like this might help them come together as a band. They had a new single on the way and enough material for an album. Suddenly, his shared dream with his brother seemed possible. 

Out on the dock, Angus saw Bon stand up and take off his shirt. It didn't dawn on Angus what Bon was planning to do until he had his socks, shoes and electronic devices laid out on the dock.

"Bon!" he yelled. "Bon, no!" He broke free from Malcolm's hold and raced towards Bon, only to watch as Bon jumped right into the jellyfish infested waters.

Almost as soon as Bon hit the water, he surfaced and pulled himself back out.

"You actually did it!" Phil exclaimed. 

Angus ran up to where Bon lay and kneeled down next to him.

"Don't tell me you got stung."

Bon groaned. "Maybe once. Twice." He grunted and shifted around. "Okay, it feels more like ten." 

"Ah, he'll live," Phil said. "They're just moon jellies." 

"Right, I think we're done for the night," Angus said. Bon groaned louder, and Angus rolled his eyes. "If you expect me to pee on you, you're out of luck."

Bon began to giggle. "Angus, you are so cute." 

Angus blushed. "I'm a guy, you're not supposed to find me cute."

Bon responded by hugging Angus around the middle and nuzzling his stomach.

"You are adorable." 

Angus sighed. "Yeah, I would say it's time to get back." He wondered why he didn't just drive them all to the city. It would've been easier to drive them back than to herd them back.

He helped Bon up, who slung himself over his shoulder. He looked over and saw that Malcolm had decided that the sand was a great place to take a nap. 

Angus sighed and pushed his anger down into his stomach. He decided that he could save his anger for when they were all sober and hung-over the next morning.  
\------------

Against all odds, Angus managed to get the three of them to his and Malcolm's home safely by loading them all on a bus and hoping that none of them puked on the way over. 

Once home, Malcolm autonomously walked himself to his own bedroom. Angus deposited Bon on the living room couch while he led Phil down to the basement to sleep it off on the couch they had down there. Well, that was the plan. Phil instead tottered over to their drum set and curled up behind it. 

"This is my spot," Phil had said. "My spot."

"Right, mate," Angus tiredly replied. "Whatever you say." It was around one in the morning by that time.

The next morning, Angus woke up at nine o' clock and went to the bathroom to use the shower. Turning the handle, he found that it was locked.

"In here," came Malcolm's sickly voice. Angus sighed and went down to the living room where he left Bon. He was awake, but not fully living.

"Oh, Angus," he moaned. "Do you know what happened last night?"

"You got piss drunk, went to the beach and went swimming with the jellyfish."

Bon pulled up his shirt, revealing an angry, red mark. 

"That does... That does explain a lot." He laid his head back down for a moment, only to suddenly shoot back up again.

"Sink," Angus said, recognizing what Bon needed to do. "Kitchen sink!" 

Bon ran into the kitchen and threw up into the sink. Angus thankfully had done the dishes the day before.

"Fuckin' hell," Bon muttered.

Angus sighed and figured that he couldn't give Bon crap right then for all the trouble last night, not when he was already paying for it at the moment. Instead, he sat up on the counter next to the sink and rubbed Bon's back as he retched again.

"Fuckin' hell," Bon repeated. "Getting old sucks."

"What do you mean?" Angus said.

Bon waved his hand around. "Didn't used to get sick like this. Could drink all night and barely feel it the next day. Hangovers are easier when you're young."

As if he heard the cue to prove Bon wrong, Malcolm wandered in with a glass of... some strange concoction and looking like he'd seen the depths of hell.

"Ugh," he grunted when he saw the mess in the sink. "At least you didn't vomit on the couch." 

"The jellyfish stings probably don't help," Angus replied. Bon groaned again and rested his head on his forearms.

"Keep rubbin' my back," he muttered and Angus complied.

"Well, we got drunk, had fun," Malcolm took a drink of whatever mess was in his glass. "So, what's next for us?"

"Got an idea," Bon muttered before taking a rumpled piece of paper out of the back of his pocket. Malcolm grabbed it, unfolded it and read it over.

"'Sunbury Music Festival,'" he read out loud. "This is only a few weeks from now, it's too late to audition and get in a slot."

Bon tilted his head up and winked at Angus.

"Now who said that we had to get a slot?"


	5. Show Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know the exact details of what happened at the Sunbury brawl, so I'm kinda winging it.

"Fuckin' hell," Phil muttered. "It's supposed to be summer, right?"

The weather for the festival turned out to be cold and rainy, leading to a dismal turnout of 'only' 15,000 or so people. Still larger than any crowd AC/DC has ever played for. So far, at least.

The five of them milled about behind the large stage. Thanks to a favor from George, they managed to become volunteers at the event, allowed in areas that the attendees weren't. They spent a better part of the day moving whatever the event staff would point at, helping set up rigs and all that. Their instruments were stored in cases inconspicuously stacked with the others. They told George that they wanted to get to know the musicians, they never gave a hint of what they were really planning. 

The current band performing would be the last band before the headliner, Deep Purple would take the stage. With nothing currently to do, Angus sat on a road case and pulled out his cigarettes. 

"You give me hell for drinking, but you smoke," Bon said shaking his head. Even so, he reached out and Angus let him grab a cigarette.

"Got to have something to match my hard rocker image," Angus replied as they lit up. "Plus it calms the nerves."

"Nervous?" Bon asked. 

"I'm always a little nervous while performing. Not to mention-" He quickly looked around to see if there was anyone within earshot. "Not to mention what we're planning to do."

"It's the perfect way to get our names out there." Bon took a puff of his cigarette. 

"We might get arrested," Malcolm said, rubbing his hands to warm them up. 

"Only if we get caught," Phil replied. 

"Then 'Jailbreak' will be the perfect song for us," Bon said. 

They hung around like that, smoking and talking while they listened to the music from the current performance. 

Angus was on his third cigarette by the time the band finished and Deep Purple was introduced to the stage. The crowd erupted in cheers and it finally hit Angus that they were actually going to do this.

Bon nodded at Malcolm and they stood, grabbing their instruments.

Bon leaned over to Angus and whispered in his ear. "Just pretend that this is what you're supposed to be doing and no one will question you."

Right. Angus grabbed his guitar case and the five of them marched to the stage with a purpose in his step. Bon was right, no one questioned why a bunch of roadies were walking around with equipment. 

They stopped at the immediate right of the stage and got their instruments ready for the show. 

Angus couldn't see the stage very well, but he stood on the tips of his toes and watched the band play. Their performance was very...lackluster to say the least. They didn't move around much and the two members that Angus could see looked bored.

"They demanded a paycheck so large that they can't pay the other bands here," Bon said. 

"And this is the kind of performance they decide to give?" Angus replied. He started to feel better about the stunt they were planning. 

Deep Purple finished their set-and nope, not even a bow to the audience- and they left the stage. Bon crouched in anticipation.

"Wait, wait," the last member of Deep Purple got into the car waiting for them. "Now!"

They leapt up onto the stage. Angus ran over to the amp to plug in his guitar and he heard Bon take the microphone.

"Hello, Sunbury!" He cried. "This is AC/DC!"

Malcolm started into the opening riff of 'Jailbreak,' and Angus followed up with his part. It only took a few seconds before he heard shouting. He looked over and saw these big burly guys going after Malcolm and Bon.

'Keep playing for as long as you can,' Bon had said. Angus did just that even as the road crew started to get rough.

One bloke grabbed at Bon, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Bon dropped the microphone and fought back, punching the guy right in the nose before Bon was physically thrown off the stage, landing in a mud puddle. 

Angus saw one guy going towards him. He was large, probably over 6'5" and wider than Angus' height. But Angus was small and quick, and took off down the stage, still playing his guitar. He forgot about the song and just started playing his own improvised solo to go along with the ridiculous game of chase. 

The large roadie ran after him and made a grab for him, but Angus ducked down and ran behind the drum set, prompting loud cheers from the crowd. Phil grabbed the hi-hat from the drum set and clocked the guy over the head.

Angus ran to the front of the stage and played a riff one-handed with his other fist raised. The crowd was screaming and Angus saw one fellow point somewhere behind Angus. He ran off again before a different roadie could grab him from behind. 

Bon, completely covered in mud, had climbed back on the stage just as it was descending into an all out brawl. He jumped on the back of one guy going after Phil. 

Angus saw his brother get clocked in the face by a large meaty fist, and that was enough of a distraction to allow someone to come up and grab his guitar. 

"Oi!" He yelled, and bent forward, ramming his head into the guy's stomach. His precious guitar was released and Angus ran back to the drums. 

He place his guitar down, deciding that they were past the point of this turning out into a full-on brawl.

Angus jumped on the back of the one who punched Malcolm, roughly pulling his hair. He flipped over the guy's shoulder, and Angus belatedly realized that he had been thrown. He stood, only for a swift punch to meet his face, knocking him back to the ground. 

More yelling. Angus saw the festival's measly security team jump on the stage to break up the fights. He rolled over and saw the car still holding the members of Deep Purple. One member had gotten out and was watching the events unfold with an expression that could only be described as gob-smacked. Angus smiled and gave a little wave. 

\--------------------------------

So they were arrested. In a way. The security pulled them off the stage and hauled them to a little, empty room in the building just a little ways away from the stage. They sat on the floor in various states of disarray. Bon was still covered in mud, which was beginning to dry and flake off. They all had bruises starting to form, Malcolm would be getting a black eye, Phil kept wincing and rubbing his head, and Mark prodded at the bruises he got along his ribs. Angus had a split lip and didn't want to think about how he looked at the moment. 

"At least we got to play at our first music festival," Malcolm said. Angus weakly laughed.

"Oh, it's not too bad," Bon said. "It wouldn't be the first time I've gotten arrested after a show."

"Just how many times were you arrested?" Angus asked.

"Two or three times," Bon said with a wink. "Second time, I accidently hit a cop while I was going after some idiot heckler in the audience. Took a swing, he ducked, and the cop was standing right behind him."

The door opened and George stepped into the room.

"You lot!" He yelled. "What were you thinking? Malcolm, I would think you would know better than to pull a stunt like this. And you-" he pointed at Bon. "Don't sit there looking innocent. This is something only you could come up with." 

"So, are we getting arrested? Going to jail for... whatever?" They couldn't figure what exactly what they could be charged with.

"I just got off the phone with David Coverdale. I don't think you were looking at anything serious for starting a fucking brawl, but Coverdale's said that he convinced everyone involved not to press charges. You've all also gotten yourselves lifetime bans from the Sunbury Festival."

He looked over at Angus and immediately softened. He took out a tissue and handed it to Angus.

"That doesn't look too good," he said as Angus dabbed at his bloody lip. From the corner of his eye, Angus could see Malcolm roll his eyes.

"All right," George finally said. "Get out of here. Go take care of yourselves, and try not to start anymore fights. I've already got your stuff collected." George helped them get up and they trudged out of the room.

Bon leaned over to Angus. "Must be nice, being the youngest."

\--------------------

Celebrations were inevitable. Angus convinced them to stay at the house for drinks rather than going out this time. After what happened last time, there was no way Angus would be playing the babysitter again. 

Bon stepped into the middle of the room, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other.

"They've already got an article posted!" he announced. "'AC/DC starts a brawl with Deep Purple's roadies after they jumped on stage and began playing right after Deep Purple's set.' You couldn't ask for better publicity." He then began to pull up videos of the incident that were circulating the internet. 

"We'll see how it pays off," Malcolm said. "And I think it's time to sign on to a proper record label."

"Time to sell our souls," Bon said, raising his drink in a toast. Angus raised his own glass of chocolate milk. They all drank.

"This is where it begins," Bon said. "The true life of a rock star. Working to death to line the pockets of some executive."

"So 'Show Business' was from personal experience?" Phil asked. 

"I was nineteen, wanting to be a rock star. Guy in a suit tells me he can make that happen, puts a piece of paper in front of me, tells me that we'd be getting a fat share of the profits. I signed it without question. Turns out that they didn't tell me a large chunk of whatever profits we would get would go to travel expenses, dry cleaning, studio fees..." He took another drink. "Everything in that song was from personal experience."

"Including the part about being too tired to 'perform' for a lady?" Angus asked.

Bon giggled. "Met a girl at a concert hall, said her sister was a huge fan of us. But I had been awake for over twenty-four hours at that point. Took her home, and I fell asleep with my pants around my ankles."

The room erupted in laughter and Bon set his drink down.

"Going out for a smoke, anyone want to join?"

Angus shrugged and figured that he could join him. They went out to the backyard, a tiny fenced area with a lawn that Angus and Malcolm didn't bother taking care of, and lit up.

"You know," Bon said, "I wasn't sure about you guys at first. You were about as young as I was when I first started out. But Malcolm knows what he's doing. He's a businessman, he can beat the suits at their own game. And you," he grinned. "You're just amazing."

"Well, you know," Angus looked down, trying to pretend that he wasn't insanely effected by Bon's praise. "We're all musicians in our family. George was with the Easybeats, our brother Alex is in a group called Grapefruit back in Scotland. This is all I ever wanted to do." 

"I feel the same way. Most guys my age decide on settling down, leave the rocking to the kids. I guess too many people feel that twenty-eight is too old to be a rock star."

"Well, I don't see myself doing anything else," Angus shrugged. "I'm gonna keep playing until I'm an old man."

"Even if you need a walker to get around?"

"I'll find a way. Besides, that's a long time from now."

Bon leaned against the awful looking mustard-yellow brick wall. He took a drag and looked like he was thinking deeply. 

"So," he said after a few moments. "How about a date?"

"Wha-" Angus inhaled too quickly and began choking on his own spit. He coughed and his eyes began to water.

Bon rubbed his back. "Is that a no?" he asked, his voice light.

"I mean, you-" he almost said 'gay,' but remembered that Bon had once been married to a woman. "You're, er, bi? Attracted to men? Not that there was a problem with that." He added the last part quickly, not wanting for Bon to think that. 

"Yeah, I am," he said. "Don't have a lot of experience actually dating another guy. It's only been just sex." 

Well for Angus, he didn't have experience in sex or dating when it came to men.

"Well, you never really advertised it. I guess I'm just surprised is all."

"Well, everyone seems to think that straight is the default. Besides, I joined a band whose name means bisexual."

"It does?"

Bon laughed. "Yeah, it's a pretty common term. Alternate current, direct current."

Angus briefly wondered how Malcolm would react when he found out that the name AC/DC made it seem like every member was bisexual. 'Well, it seemed like that would be half-right.'

"So, is that a no?" Bon asked. Angus knew that there wouldn't be any hard feelings if he turned down Bon, but why would he want to?

"Well, I didn't say that," Angus said. He could feel his cheeks get hot and he was all too aware that he didn't look his best at the moment, with the fat lip and the bruise starting to blossom on his cheek. 

"So, a yes?"

"Yeah," Angus said, willing the butterflies in his stomach to go away. He wouldn't let his nerves get the best of him. "I expect a chariot, roses, and a bottle of your finest apple cider."

Bon laughed. "How about this Friday?"

"Friday's good." He hoped that five days would be enough for the swelling in his lip to go down.

Before either one of them could say anything else, Phil popped his head out the door.

"Hey, Bon. I found some joints, you want one?"

Angus nodded to Bon and headed inside, his chest thrumming in anticipation.

He had a date with Bon Scott. He would've been the envy of every girl his age back in school. He tried not to think about how he had no idea just what to do.


	6. Soul Stripper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm taking a few liberties from here on out (as if I wasn't before). Also, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing.

The incident at Sunbury worked better than any of them expected. Malcolm kept track of the amount of times that their songs were downloaded off of iTunes, with Jailbreak outperforming Can I Sit Next to You by far. Angus expected his brother to be in a good mood as the week progressed, but, well... Angus never swore, save for lewd comments, but he could only describe his brother's behavior as bitchy.

"Angus! You think you can do the dishes for once in your life!" 

In the sink, there were two bowls and spoons from when they had cereal that morning. 

"Malcolm, are you feeling alright?" Angus asked. Malcolm threw his hands up.

"I'm fine!" he yelled. "I just don't see why we gotta live in a pigsty all the time."

Angus quickly washed the bowls and the spoons off before putting them in the dishwasher, not really in the mood to put up with Malcolm's temper that morning. Malcolm sulked at the table with his laptop. 

Angus sighed and decided to keep probing, even if it might trigger another outburst. 

"It's not about the band, is it?" he asked. Malcolm slammed his laptop shut. 

"Well, of course it is." He crossed his arms and slid down in his chair. "I've been trying to get us more gigs at pubs. Our new music plus the stint last week brought in more fans. You know, baggy jeans, long haired headbangers. Despite that, I can't seem to get any gigs at a place more for people like that."

"You should take some time to relax," Angus said. 

Malcolm shook his head. "We've got to follow up with our publicity stunt, I can't take time off."

"I don't think one day's going to hurt."

Malcolm sighed and opened his laptop again. 

"Thanks, but I'll relax when we finally start getting gigs again."

Angus checked the time. 

"I'm, uh, I'm going to be out tonight."

Malcolm didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Sounds like you've got a date," he said.

"No," Angus said too quickly. "Er, no. Bon and I will just be hanging around the city, I guess."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "You and Bon?"

"It's not a date." Right, now he's going to be suspicious, Angus thought. 

"It's just that you and Bon have very different ideas of fun. He's a drunkard, and you're... you."

Angus didn't want to point out Malcolm's hypocrisy and start an argument.

"Yeah, well... See you." He left the kitchen, leaving Malcolm to fumble over the band's affairs.

He spent the better part of the morning trying to figure out what to wear for the date. At first, he decided that fussing over an outfit seemed ridiculous and settled on just a pair of skintight jeans and a blue t-shirt. And then he figured that the skintight jeans might seem presumptuous and went back to change into loose-fitting jeans. Well, looser. 

His phone buzzed with a text from Bon, letting him know that he was here. His phone an old hand-me-down, a flip-phone that used to be Margaret's. Bon laughed when he first saw it. 

Angus went outside and saw Bon waiting for him next to a motorcycle. 

"What is that?" Angus asked.

"Your chariot," Bon said with a flourish. 

"Isn't that what you had your big wreck in?"

Bon pressed a hand to his chest. "I am stone cold sober right now, thank you very much. Besides, this is a new bike. My other one was completely totaled." He handed Angus a helmet. 

"Your hair's getting longer," Bon noted as Angus fumbled with the helmet. 

Angus tugged at one of his curls, already hearing his mother nagging for him to get it cut. It seemed to grow impossibly fast, and his curls get wild and unruly if he let it grow out too long. 

"I like it," Bon quickly added, probably sensing Angus' uncertainty. He allowed Angus to get on the motorcycle and wrap his arms around him.

"Are you sure about this?" Angus asked. 

"Well, I was thinking about attaching a sidecar, but that would've looked too ridiculous." Bon looked over his shoulder and winked. "Just hold on tight, you'll be fine." 

Angus held on tighter as Bon revved the engine and began to go. Angus' mind chose that moment to dig up memories of him trying to learn to ride the bike without training wheels, but he couldn't get the balance right and would fall and scrape his knees. Right, they were basically doing the same thing except at 70 kilometers per hour. He buried his head into Bon's shoulder, figuring that the only thing that he could do at this point was trust Bon and not look.

After fifteen to twenty minutes, they came to a stop. Angus had not pulled his head away the entire time. He slowly got off the bike as Bon pulled out the kickstand and took a few wobbly steps.

"You alright there?" Bon asked. 

"Fine," Angus replied. "I think I would just prefer a car next time." At least with a car, there would be two tons of metal armor between him and whatever aimed to make him a bloody smear on the concrete. "So where are we off to on this fine date?" 

"The arcade."

Angus looked at Bon. 

"Seriously?" 

Bon's mouth curved up. "Seriously." 

Angus had expected a bar. Or perhaps a strip club. That was all he heard about whenever Bon would hang out with Phil, or one of his older friends. Angus wondered if this was about his age. Or maybe it was a bar that had a few arcade machines in it. 

"Still one of my favorite places," Bon continued, oblivious to Angus' thoughts. He wrapped his arm around Angus' shoulder and led him away from the parking lot and down the street.

Angus momentarily panicked. What was the etiquette for going on a date? Well, he'd been on dates with girls before. Would it be acceptable to hold his hand? Should he treat Bon like any other girl he'd date, or was there a different set of rules for dating a bloke?

As Bon came to a stop in front of a building, Angus realized that he meant an actual arcade. Flashing lights, tickets for prizes, and cheap, cardboard pizza. A wave of nostalgia hit Angus as he remembered when George would take him and Malcolm to a similar place, just down the street from his apartment.

"You are serious," Angus said in disbelief. Bon smiled and grabbed his hand. 

"Come on," Bon said while leading him inside. They bypassed all of the loudest machines meant for younger children and went to a back room. Inside were several old school arcade machines. Angus saw a worn pac-man machine, and there was even an old school surfer-themed pinball machine that had to be at least twenty years old. 

Bon walked over to the change machine and put in a five, collecting the coins that spilled out. 

"Right, which one do you want to try first?" Bon asked as he handed Angus half the coins. 

"The pinball machine," Angus replied. It had been a while since he played. The Chuck Berry-themed pinball machine from his childhood used to be his favorite. 

Bon pointed at the scoreboard. It listed BON as number one. 

"Think you can beat my high score?" 

Well, Angus originally wasn't going to take this that seriously, but Bon's cocky tone changed his mind. He loaded the coins into the machine and began to play as Bon watched.

He pulled the plunger to shoot out the first ball. He did exceptionally well, and was concentrating on shooting the ball light up the three surf boards. As the ball rolled down to the bottom flippers, Angus felt something pinch his behind and he jumped, causing the flipper to miss the ball. 

"What did you do that for?" Angus exclaimed. 

Bon smirked. "I goosed the goose." 

Angus huffed. "Right, if you think you need to resort to such dirty tactics, you might as well admit defeat now." 

Bon crossed his arms and leaned back against the adjacent arcade machine as he watched Angus. From the corner of his eye, Angus could see Bon's smirk slowly fading as Angus' score crept higher and higher. Finally, Angus lost his final ball, but received a congratulatory message on getting the new high score- two thousand points higher than Bon's. The machine prompted his initials, but since putting in his initials would've spelled AMY, Angus went with BAL, the closest spelling of 'balls' he could manage. 

Bon grabbed his coins and began putting them in. 

"It looks like I'm going to have to win my title back." 

Angus raised an eyebrow. Bon looked so serious, and it was for a pinball game. Angus wondered if he should watch or go play some of the other games. 

As Bon began to play, Angus wondered if this meant that the date had taken a wrong turn. So far, he played some pinball and awakened some sort of competitive streak out of Bon. Well, the night was still young. 

After some time had passed and Angus figured that Bon would have his guard down, he reached over and pinched Bon's butt.

Bon didn't even flinch. "That's not gonna work," he said, his eyes never leaving the board. 

Angus sighed. "Alright then." He quickly went up on his tiptoes and kissed Bon on the cheek. That got Bon's attention and he fumbled with the flippers, losing his ball right as he was about to get a combo that would've tripled his score.

Bon glared at him out of the corner of his eye. 

"All's fair in love and war," he said, unable to keep the smirk off his face. Before Bon could reply, Angus ran off to get a drink. 

In the end, Bon did managed to get the high score again, with five hundred points over Angus' score, but it took several more tries than Angus had needed. They decided to leave after that, as the sun had gone down by that point. They walked down the street, while Angus still nursed his soft drink. 

"Man," Bon said. "George said that you loved arcades, but I wasn't expecting that."

Angus paused with the straw halfway to his mouth.  
"Don't tell me that you asked George for advice about our date?" 

"What? No!" Bon reached up, running a hand through his curls. "George would... He'd probably kill me. He just likes to talk about you and Malcolm, you know?" 

"He wouldn't kill you," Angus said. George used to have a temper like him and Malcolm, going by what their old school teachers had to say. But now he was always the one trying to get his younger brothers to control their temper. 

"He'd cut off my balls at the very least," Bon replied far too casually. He grabbed Angus' arm. "Where to next? We can grab some ice cream, or head to my place." 

Angus stopped. "Your place?" 

Bon shrugged. "Well, whatever you decide is fine."

"We wouldn't need to take your motorcycle there, would we?" Angus asked. 

"It's just a short walk away. I did get apple cider." 

Angus swallowed, trying not to show that he was nervous. "Well, how can I refuse?" 

Bon wasn't kidding when he said that his place was just a short walk away. More like just around the corner. He lived in a small building that looked like a re-purposed motel. 

He led Angus to the door to his flat and let him in. It was only one room, save for the bathroom, and a small kitchenette separated by a counter. The place looked like Bon had never had to readjust to living the bachelor life. 

Angus had an idea of what direction this sort of thing was supposed to go. He cleared his throat.

"So, um, what did you want to do now?" he asked. Bon shrugged. 

"We can just hang out, drink that cider. It's completely up to you." They stood close together, Angus could feel the warmth radiating from him. 

Angus grabbed Bon's hand, gave it a shy little squeeze. "We could do that, sure. But-" He quickly went to his tiptoes and kissed Bon full on the lips. He pulled back just as quickly and rocked back on his heels, looking down at his feet. Bon let out a little laugh.

"You are adorable," he said. He cupped Angus' face and bent down for another kiss. Angus clutched at Bon's jacket, and kissed back. It was like kissing a girl but not really, if that made any sense. Girls were soft, but Bon was hard angles and Angus could feel his stubble scraping against his lips. 

Bon tilted his head and flickered his tongue into Angus' mouth. Angus groaned and moved his arms to wrap around Bon's neck. 

Eventually Bon pulled away. "Sorry, it's a little tough bending down like that."

Before Angus could get offended at the dig against his height, Bon quickly picked him up by the waist. Angus gasped, clutching Bon's shoulders and wrapping his legs around his torso. Bon walked them over to his bed, and gently laid Angus down on top of it. 

"Is this all right?" Bon asked as he crawled on top of him. Angus let out a soft laugh.

"More than all right." He tugged Bon down on him, fastening their lips together. Bon licked his way into Angus' mouth, and Angus helped him out of his denim jacket. 

Bon dipped his fingers underneath Angus' shirt when Angus felt his phone begin to vibrate. He pulled away and pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing his brother's name flash across the tiny screen. 

"It's Malcolm," Angus said, not really wanting to answer.

"Oh, I wonder what he wants?" Bon plucked the phone out of Angus' hand and chucked it across the room. He gave a sheepish smile as the phone landed somewhere near the kitchenette. Angus rolled his eyes and leaned up to kiss Bon again, figuring that worrying about Malcolm's wrath should come later. 

Bon pulled Angus' shirt up over his head and threw it to the side. Angus pulled at Bon's shirt, trying to make things even. 

Against his leg, Angus could feel Bon's pocket start to vibrate. 

"Uh oh," he said. Bon rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone. "It's Malcolm, isn't it?" Angus sighed and let his head fall against the pillow. "You'd better answer it."

Bon hit the answer button and held the phone up to his ear. Angus was close enough that he could perfectly hear his brother's voice. 

"Hello?"

"Bon! Angus better be with you. Tell him to answer his fucking phone! You both need to come over for band practice."

Bon blinked. "It's nine o' clock at night." 

"We've got a gig. It's last minute, but one of the performing bands had to drop out due to an emergency. We've got to put together a set list and rehearse."

"Alright, when's the gig?"

"Tomorrow night." 

"What?" 

"I've already called Phil and Mark. You two better be over in twenty minutes." Malcolm hung up, leaving both Bon and Angus stunned. 

"So I guess we've got a performance tomorrow night?" Angus asked. Bon shook his head. 

"We'd better go then. It will be our first proper performance together."

Angus sighed as he realized that they wouldn't able to continue what they were doing for at least a couple of days. Bon grabbed Angus' shirt and handed it to him. 

"Does this mean we'll have to take your motorcycle?"


	7. High Voltage

Angus leaned against the van smoking a cigarette as he watched Malcolm carry the last of their equipment out. They had spent the night rehearsing for the show and now had to look forward to a five-hour drive to get there. It wouldn't be the first time Malcolm did something like this; Angus was just surprised that Phil and Mark didn't walk right out after Mal told them to bring an overnight bag. 

Malcolm put the last trunk into the van and kicked Angus' foot. 

"Would you quit sulking?" he said. 

Angus huffed on his cigarette. "'M not."

"A gig's a gig," Mal continued with a vague gesture. 

"Yeah? And how much money are we gonna earn that's not going to petrol or staying in a motel?"

Malcolm punched Angus in the arm, hard, and stalked off. Angus rubbed his hurt arm before throwing his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his boot. No, he didn't feel like fighting with Malcolm over this. Angus had a feeling that Mal would react worse to the real reason for his mood. 

Bon came out of the house with his bag tucked under his arm, laughing at something that Phil was saying. Unlike Angus, he didn't show his annoyance to the others. At least, Angus assumed Bon was also annoyed about suddenly being interrupted and dragged 300 miles away. 

After Phil climbed into the back seat of the van, Bon placed his arm against the side and leaned towards Angus. 

"You feelin' alright?" he asked. Angus debated on whether he should light up another cigarette.

"Tired," he replied. "A bit cranky." 

Bon chuckled. "This wouldn't be the first time for me. Besides," he leaned forward to whisper in Angus' ear. "After the performance we can find a way to continue where we left off."

Angus smiled and leaned in to whisper just exactly what he wanted to do when the van's blaring horn cut him off. 

"I guess Mal's getting impatient," Angus said instead. Bon winked and climbed into the back of the van. Angus sighed and walked around the van to get into the passenger seat. 

Malcolm twisted the key in the ignition to get the van sputtering to life. He and Angus had the driver and passenger seats, respectively, while the rest were crammed in the back seat meant for two people. There used to be a third row, but it had been taken out to make room for their stuff. Bon jokingly set his legs across Phil and Mark's laps. Mark tried to push Bon off while Phil only laughed and patted Bon's thighs. 

Right, they were in for quite a trip. 

\---------------------

During the long drive, Angus decided to use the opportunity to take a nap. Thanks to his brother, he probably managed to get three hours of sleep the night before. He couldn't have been sleeping for more than an hour, lulled by the white noise of the car driving down the highway, when he felt fingers gingerly run up his sides before digging in and tickling. Angus shrieked and kicked his leg up, hitting the dashboard. 

"Bon!" he exclaimed. He turned around in his seat to try and hit Bon.

Angus fell against the door as Malcolm sharply jerked the steering wheel to change lanes without any warning.

"Will you quit acting like a bunch of kids?" he said, quickly glaring at them before turning his eyes back to the road. Angus quickly turned around again to stick his tongue out at Bon before settling back down in his seat. Mark barely twitched from the shenanigans; he was playing around on his phone with his headphones plugged in. Phil wasn't smiling anymore, and instead had his lips set in a thin line and glared at the floor like it said something rude about his mother.

It continued on like that for a while, sitting quietly until either Bon or Angus got bored and began to bug each other, them giggling like schoolgirls and Malcolm yelling at them to shut it. Four hours in, Malcolm wound up having to stop to feed the petrol-guzzling machine. 

Malcolm killed the ignition when they drove up to a pump. 

"We're almost there. You should go ahead and change, Angus." Malcolm jumped out to fill the tank while Mark and Phil went out to pee and grab snacks, respectively. That left Bon and Angus in the van. 

Angus grabbed his bag as Bon stretched out languidly across the back seat. He put his hands behind his head and looked at Angus with a sly smirk.

"Expecting a show?" Angus asked as he fished out his uniform from his bag. He pulled his shirt off over his head and wiggled out of his jeans, since the seat didn't give him a whole lot of room. It didn't feel sexy to Angus, but Bon was still looking at him like he was getting a private show. Thankfully, Malcolm couldn't see inside the van right now. 

Angus pulled on his shorts and button up shirt and picked up his jacket right as Malcolm opened the door to fetch his wallet. He unfolded it to put it on and then saw it.

"Uh oh." 

Malcolm sighed and pressed his face into his hands. "What's 'uh oh,' Angus?"

Angus wordlessly held up his jacket to show Malcolm that the thread connecting his right sleeve had begun to come undone, leaving it hanging by a couple of threads. Their sister had made that jacket for him, since he never got a third year blazer while he was in school, but it seemed that it couldn't withstand Angus' thrashing in the long term. 

Malcolm looked at the jacket. Angus braced himself, expecting Mal to yell and scream for not realizing that his jacket needed to be patched up sooner. Instead, he just sighed again.

"Alright, I guess we're going to have to fix it on the way there." His voice was calm, and quite frankly, it unnerved Angus more than if Malcolm let his temper shine. 

"Maybe we could get another one?" Bon suggested. Malcolm shook his head.

"We're going to arrive there with just thirty minutes to set up. I don't think we have time to go store to store trying to find a jacket."

Bon climbed his way to the front seat, sitting in the gap between the passenger and driver's seats. He scrounged up some safety pins to try and pin the sleeve to the jacket. Mark and Phil came back from the station, and Mark at least seemed happy that they would have more room in the back. After paying, Malcolm climbed back into the driver's seat and drove off, ignoring the fact that Bon's behind was only a few inches away from him as he bent down and fussed over Angus.

"Just for one performance," Bon muttered, holding several safety pins in his mouth. He put the pins in place to keep the sleeve attached.

He let go of the sleeve and inspected his handiwork. "Okay, try moving your arm around."

Angus lifted his arm above his head and heard two of the pins pop open. 

"Shit." Bon grabbed the sleeve and looked it over.

"Maybe go without the jacket?" Mark suggested. 

Angus threaded his fingers through his hair and considered it. His school uniform was meant to be the icon of the band, but how would it look without his jacket? Just a button-up dress shirt and shorts didn't seem nearly as iconic. 

Bon grabbed the jacket again and continued to fuss with the safety pins and the sleeve. 

"Maybe if you didn't move around as much?" Phil suggested. Angus and the rest of the band wordlessly agreed that that was no option. 

They continued to fuss over Angus until Malcolm pulled the van into a parking lot near the pub. Bon managed to get the sleeve on in such a way that it wouldn't come undone as long as Angus didn't reach over his head. 

Angus kept his jacket off and over his shoulder as they unloaded the van and dragged their equipment down the block to where they would perform. Angus and Malcolm discussed the benefits and the drawbacks of signing on to a professional record deal. Getting roadies to help with their equipment would be a definite plus, in Angus' eyes. 

At least Malcolm managed to book their gig in a pub, finally taking a step away from the glam rocker image Dave had set up for them. 

Angus wanted to tell himself that nothing else could possibly go wrong, but that would only tempt fate to throw more things their way. But still, his neurotic brother interrupted his date, they drove five hours for a gig that wouldn't be worth it in the end, and his uniform was falling apart. 

"A gig's a gig," Angus told himself. 

\-------------------------

It started out okay enough. They were there to replace the opening gig, before the main band came out to play. The crowd stood and watched them, not really showing whether they liked or disliked them. But these were the people Malcolm wanted to impress and build a fanbase from. 

Another thing that Angus noticed was that the pub didn't have any proper air conditioning. He could already feel the sweat soaking through his shirt. 

They were playing High Voltage, and it felt nice to be able to run through an entire set with their own songs, rather than just two and playing a bunch of covers. Bon worked much better with him and Malcolm as a songwriter than Dave did. 

"Well you ask me 'bout the clothes I wear," Bon sang. Angus did his best to keep moving around the stage, even though they were crowded to the front, since the headlining band's equipment was already set up behind them. He mostly had to settle for bobbing his head and keeping the time with his feet. Between the uniform and being constrained to a tiny section of the stage, Angus could feel himself go stir crazy. 

"And you ask me why I grow my hair." 

Angus could feel his sleeve wanting to rip off again. He hated how he had to restrict his movement to keep his clothes from falling apart. 

Halfway through the song, the unthinkable happened. His amp gave out, crying out in a storm of feedback and static before going dead. The music stopped, even though it was only Angus' amp that went out. Angus froze as the crowd muttered to themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bon quickly run off the stage to try and fix the problem. 

Malcolm took the microphone. "Uh, we'll get this fixed as soon as we can, folks." Angus could only imagine the kind of meltdown that his brother was holding in. 

The logical thing to do would be to let Malcolm take the lead and continue on with just one guitar, except that all of their songs needed a rhythm guitarist, otherwise they wouldn't sound right. 

Angus pulled the strap over his head and set the guitar next to the drum kit, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel the stares of every single person in the room on his back. Phil, whether out of boredom or to do just something to fill the silence, began to play a steady beat on the bass drum. As usual, Angus let his legs go with the beat. He danced a little, moving his hips to Phil's beat. 

The crowd began to murmur and Angus actually heard a couple of people laugh. Well, he couldn't play, but didn't mean he still couldn't entertain the crowd, even if they were laughing at him. Angus caught Phil's eye, silently urging him to play a faster beat. Phil obliged, and even began to play his toms to accompany the bass drum.

Feeling like dancing wasn't enough to fill the awkward void, Angus began to take off his jacket, since he figured it couldn't do him any good now anyway. He heard several scattered cheers and even some whistles, and that cemented what he planned to do. 

He slid the jacket the rest of the way off his shoulders, as seductively as he could manage. It probably turned out looking stilted and awkward, but the audience either didn't think so, or they were laughing at him. Either way, Angus could keep them entertained until they could play again. He might as well have fun with it. 

He threw the torn jacket behind him, barely missing Phil. He could see Malcolm and Mark look at each other, wondering what they should do. Angus barely knew what to do. He slowly untucked his shirt before slowly unbuttoning it. 

With every beat, Angus felt his inhibitions melt away. Just like when he first began to play on a stage, he moved around to keep his nerves in check. 

Malcolm must've gotten a signal that everything was in working order again, as he caught Angus' eye and jerked his head over to where Angus left his guitar. With his shirt buttoned down all the way, Angus grabbed his guitar and put the strap over his head. 

Bon leapt back on the stage shortly after, and he seemed oddly flustered. 

They began to play again, though Angus could tell that they're amp was only barely fixed and would probably only make it through the rest of this gig. The crowd seemed more into it. It seemed that Angus' strip show managed to grab their attention so that they could actually appreciate the hard rock sound that they had to offer. 

TNT served as their grand finale, and Angus managed to get the crowd to chant along with him. They finished the last note to loud cheers and applause. Angus could already see Malcolm, ever the businessman, selling their music to their new fans. 

As they left the stage, Angus felt someone grab his arm. 

"So," Bon whispered into his ear, and his tone sent vibrations running down his spine. "Where did that come from?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sat on this forever, figured I'd have to post it now or never.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm halfway drunk as write this, don't be afraid to point out any mistakes I've made.


End file.
